


Father-Son Bonding

by PineTrain



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Parent POV, pinecest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 20:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12755310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineTrain/pseuds/PineTrain





	Father-Son Bonding

Requested by anonymous, partially inspired by a [pinecest story](https://sunshineshipper.tumblr.com/post/118455984875/separation-full-version) ~~that I can't remember the author or name of...~~ written by @sprucepinecest and @sunshineshipper. Thanks to an anon for telling me!

* * *

 

Cold and bitter. An ironically vivid taste, not harsh in either respect, but mild and pathetic. A taste that only exists after time has let flavors degrade to a point where even viscous rot is preferable. At least rot swirls with change, however vile, instead of stagnating in the same form for months on end.

The worst part of stagnation is its stillness. Not so much a “stillness of movement” but a “stillness of being”. It’s not the fact that things _aren’t_ changing, it’s the fact that they _haven’t_ changed. The difference of a situation existing alone at a single moment of time and one that lives with a million other such moments on a path the stretches on and on with no end in sight. A sense that maybe this is now just how things are, that they can never change.

That was why Mr. Pines was in Gravity Falls, staring at cold and bitter coffee while he waited: To escape the stagnating mud his family had fallen into. It was sooner than he and his wife had expected either of them would visit, but they hadn’t been properly prepared for how things would turn out when this had all begun. They had expected things to go badly and had been ready for many arguments and discussions, but what they got instead was a total shut down of communication.

Dipper adamantly refused to speak to either of them. Not by phone, not by internet, and certainly not by mail. There were no arguments, no discussions, only silence. They hadn’t been ready for that, but they expected it to end eventually. When it didn’t, they realized they’d need to try something else. If Dipper wasn’t going to speak to either of them on the phone, the internet, or mail, then it seemed one of them would have to meet him in person.

He’d been here for eight months. Eight months without responding to either of his parents. What had he done? What was he up to? What did he think about things? The last question was a bit disingenuous considering his behavior, but he could at least say it to them.

They got status updates from his uncles, but those were always vague. Mr. Pines didn’t know if that was because Stan and Ford were in the dark about how Dipper was really doing, or if it meant that the two were purposefully withholding information. He’d grown up thinking Uncle Stan was dead only to find out he was actually pretending to be Uncle Ford for decades. What do you do with that kind information? And the real Ford? A man he’d never known? Mr. Pines had learned a lot about him in the last few years, yet he was still a mystery in so many ways with strange tales of other dimensions. Both men were enigmas to him in their own disconcerting ways. More importantly in this matter, they were closer to the twins than they were to him. What if they were against what he and his wife had decided?

He could trust them today, though. It was a matter everyone could agree needed to be settled. Well, besides Dipper, but that was why he needed his uncles to convince his son to meet with him. Four days he’d been trying and four days Dipper had refused to leave his room as long as his father was there. Mr. Pines couldn’t set aside all his obligations back home forever, so today was the last chance to talk in person. He had hoped he could handle this on his own, but he now had to accept his uncles’ help, however little he trusted them.

He heard footsteps too light for either man creak their way methodically down the staircase and silently chastised himself for doubting them. Mr. Pines looked up from the brown sludge in his mug to see his son for the first time in over half a year. Hunched over, his skin and hair were greasy and he had dark circles under his eyes. He had a slight tan, though, and his muscles seemed to fill out his wrinkled and dirty clothes a bit more than before this had all begun. The grosser qualities of his appearance were clearly new, likely related to Mr. Pines’ presence and an ensuing lack of self-care.

“Hello, Dipper,” he said as his son pulled out a chair across the table and sat.

“Hey,” Dipper said, his voice hollow. His eyes faced Mr. Pines direction, but they were focused on something else behind him.

“How’ve you been?” An empty question, since the answer was obvious just by his appearance, but Mr. Pines was looking for an opening to start the conversation. He got no response. “Dip-”

“Mason,” Dipper interrupted. “My name’s Mason. Don’t call me Dipper.”

Mr. Pines flinched. He’d been ready to handle a lot of things that could be said. He’d been ready for the fact that he wouldn’t be able to handle a lot of things that could be said. That statement was in a different category altogether. He didn’t even know how to react. It hurt more than if Dipper had leapt over the table and punched him right in the face.

“O-oh. Okay, Mason,” he said, trying to rally himself and keep going.

“Why are you here?”

“Your mother and I are worried about you,” Mr. Pines said. “We want to talk to you. We want to know how you’re doing. We want to hear it from you, not just your great uncles.”

Dipper crossed his arms and looked away. “I’ve been too busy to talk, but I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

“D- Mason… We both know you’re not that busy. Not for this long.”

“It doesn’t really matter what you know about me,” Dipper said harshly. “You’re the ones who sent me away, so what do you care?”

“Mason…”

“You know how Mabel’s doing, though. Is one kid not good enough? I mean, I don’t get to know how she’s doing, so I’m pretty jealous.” Dipper’s face twitched and he visibly steeled his jaw.

“If you’d talk to us, we could tell you how she’s doing,” Mr. Pines offered.

“Yeah, like how Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford tell you how I’m doing. What, will you let me come visit her after eight months of that? I mean, you came here so it’s only fair.”

“You know why we don’t let you talk to her. We’re trying to do this for your own good.”

“Our own good? Yeah, you said that back when you broke us up. And yeah, I’ve been doing reeeal good up here away from her.”

“Well, um, you’ve gotten a bit of a tan, and you look like you’re exercising,” Mr. Pines said. He knew his son was being sarcastic, but the words just sort of fell out of his mouth unintentionally.

Dipper sighed in exasperation, “Look, what do you want?”

“For you to talk to us, like I said.”

“Why should I? You broke us up. You won’t let me see her or even talk to her.”

“Because if we didn’t break you up, how else were we going to stop it? If we let you see her, how are you going to get over this?”

“I don’t want to get over this, dad! I don’t want you to stop it! Mabel doesn’t either. I don’t even need to talk to her to know that.”

“So what are you two going to do, then?” Mr. Pines asked in frustration. “When you grow up? When people don’t think you’re just kids being kids when you sneak around together? When someone asks you why a brother and a sister are living together in their 20s?”

“You think I haven’t thought about that? I thought about it all the time! I still think about it! Mabel used to tell me to shut up about it because it scared her…”

Dipper’s tone had been growing more and more defiant until he said that. He suddenly wilted, turning away in his chair. There were other things he had thought about that made Mabel tell him to shut up. Maybe if he hadn’t listened to her, he wouldn’t be talking to his father like this now. Mr. Pines took no joy in that.

“Mason, your mother and I… we don’t… I can’t say we accept what you two feel for each other. But that’s not why we’re doing this.”

Dipper glared sidelong at him, “What’s it matter why you’re doing it?”

“It matters because even if we don’t accept it, we accept you! Both of you! We don’t think you’re just making up these feelings. We understand that you’re serious about it. Hell, maybe if it kept going someday we might even accept you two being in a relationship.”

Dipper shifted to face his father. His arms were still crossed, but he was listening.

“The thing is that you don’t know if it’s going to keep going. You’re teenagers. Teenagers have phases.”

“This isn’t a phase!”

“Do you know that? Do you really know that, D- Mason? You said you’ve thought about the future. Do you think you’ll be ready for everything? For everything that’ll hit the two of you being together like that?”

“We’ll get through it. We get through everything. Together.”

Mr. Pines sighed, dropping his forehead into his hand. “Di- Mason. You don’t know just how unpredictable the future is. The only time you two have been outside our house together is in Gravity Falls. The rest of the world isn’t as accepting as they are and you can’t live with us forever.”

“We can live in Gravity Falls.”

“Can you? Do you really think you’ll want to stay here forever? Do you think Mabel will? What if you change your minds? What if Gravity Falls changes?”

“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it. Together.”

Dipper didn’t sound as confident this time and a few moments of silence followed his words. It made Mr. Pines uncomfortable, seeing his son faltering and knowing it was him that had caused it. It had to be done, though.

“I just want you to know that we aren’t doing this because we disapprove. We’re doing this for you and Mabel. You might think you have things figured out, even if it’s just ‘We’ll get through it. Together,’ but that’s not good enough in the real world.”

“So, what, dad, you think you have things figured out?” Dipper asked, his tone a fading whisper of earlier defiance

“No! That’s exactly why we’re doing it! I don’t have it figured out, your mom doesn’t have it figured out, no one has anything figured out! That’s what the real world’s like and you’re adding a whole hell of a lot of issues onto everything else with this. We want what’s best for you both and this… we can’t believe you and Mabel together is even close to the best.”

The corners of Dipper’s lips twitched and his eyelids fluttered as he struggled to keep his face from falling. Even though what he said was completely honest, Mr. Pines still felt like he’d taken a cheap shot on his son. The fact that his words were having such an effect meant that Dipper had truly worried about all those things. How long had it taken for him to reach a level of confidence it’d only taken his father a few minutes to destroy?

A few minutes more passed quietly. Not wanting to say anything further, Mr. Pines took a sip of his coffee, cold and bitter. He looked at the mug as he lowered it to the table. Just before it touched, he paused and swirled it, watching the brown liquid spin in viscous spirals. The coffee tasted gross, it looked gross, but it moved.

“Can I see her? Please?”

Mr. Pines breathed deeply in and out. “No.”

“Just… just five minutes, on the internet. Not in person.”

Mr. Pines breathed deeply in and out, but his voice caught in throat. He closed his mouth. Dipper’s words sounded so sad, so broken. “I… I’ll talk to your mother about it.”

He couldn’t say no. That last request carried not just the pain this conversation had caused his son, but the entirety of the eight months they’d been separated. Mr. Pines knew he had to be tough, but saying no after that was a bridge too far.

More silence followed. Mr. Pines contemplated swirling the coffee again, but bile roiled inside him at the thought. So he waited.

Eventually Dipper reached into one of his pockets and pulled something out. He held it over the table towards Mr. Pines. “Can you at least give this to her?”

Mr. Pines reached his own hand out under Dipper’s and felt the warm weight of a stone fall into his hand. Pulling it to himself to examine, he saw it was shaped like a star. It had a dull gray color when held still, but whenever he moved it a rainbow of colors fluttered about its surface in random, unpredictable patterns. His eyes fixated on the symbol of a pine tree carved in the center of the star and as he ran his thumb across it, he felt the flicker of thin leaves on his skin. Magic? He looked back at his son. Dipper met his gaze and held it steady.

“I will.”

\-------------

As he drove home, Mr. Pines reached a part of the road that was long, straight, and empty. He fished the stone out of his bag and examined it again, not easy since his eyes flicked back to the road every other second. Maybe it was guilt over what had been said that made him agree to it. Made him agree to give this gift that he knew could undermine everything he and his wife were trying to do for them.

He knew about the symbols. He knew about Bill. He knew about what they had gone through that first year and what it meant to them. He knew what this stone meant. Still, he had agreed to it, and he would do it, though his wife wouldn’t be happy.

He didn’t know if he would be able to properly explain it, since she hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen and heard their son react to his words, hadn’t seen the desperation in his final stare. No, it wasn’t guilt about what was said that made him agree, not entirely. It was that Dipper had wanted to give this to her himself, in private, just the two of them. And Mr. Pines visit had made him think he would never have that chance.

Dipper could have tried to do it some other way: Through Stan or Ford, through friends, through mail or a dozen other possibilities. But he’d given it to his father. His father who had just crushed him with a myriad reminders of the impossibility of his love.

“Would’ve been easier if he just told me to go fuck myself,” he muttered, slipping the stone back into the bag.

Mr. Pines looked as far up the road as he could see and found not a single car. Leaning back into his seat, he pressed his knee to the wheel to keep it steady as his hands moved behind his head. He watched the passing trees for a few minutes, then sighed and laughed in exasperation. The air escaping his chest was bitter, but warm and loose. There was movement.


End file.
